Author's note: thank you again for the reviews, it's always a pleasure to read them.
Chapter thirty-seven
Without knocking on the door, Angela entered by the kitchen door but abruptly stopped as she noticed Jane and Maura on the couch. The honey blonde was facing her partner – feet up on her stomach – and was plunged in the reading of what looked like a medical publication while the detective was applying nail varnish on the scientist's toenails; a voice talking in some obscure language in the background.
"What's happening here?"
Both women finally looked up from their respective tasks to focus on Angela until Maura noticed how Jane's mother was staring at her feet resting on her partner's stomach. Very matter-of-fact, the scientist shrugged; smiled softly.
"It is the perfect level for Jane to not have to bend over."
Still incredulous, Angela looked at her daughter as if she had lost her mind but the detective nodded in an echo of what Maura had just said. Nail varnish bottle in hand, the brunette cleared her voice.
"What? It's just like a table. She's not crushing anyone."
With her typical peaceful smile, Maura focused back on her reading and grabbed her mug to take a sip of tea. Angela didn't insist. She had never herself seen her pregnant stomach as an opportunity to use it one way or another but perhaps her daughter's generation had different habits. Incongruous ones.
"And who's the woman talking? What is she saying?"
The medical examiner put back her mug on the coffee table and rose a finger in the air to catch Jane's mother attention before shutting the magazine she had been reading.
"Audio stimulation. It has been a while since the baby can hear our voices – and recognize us – which also means it is the perfect time for the brain to assimilate different languages. Today is Mandarin."
Astounded, Angela picked the CD cover that Maura pointed out on the coffee table and stared at it; not sure of what she was supposed to say. Somehow, she found it typical from the medical examiner. She was just surprised that her daughter had given in. Unless Jane had simply abdicated, for whatever reason.
"I don't want my grandchild to talk a mix of English and Mandarin!"
As the brunette saw Maura open her mouth to give a way too expected – and way too incomprehensible – explanation to the reason why it wouldn't happen, she squeezed her partner's foot to prevent her from doing so and simply shook her head at her mother.
"It won't happen, ma'. Take it as a plus if she – or he – ever wants to take karate classes."
Maura cringed at the sport reference that alluded to a Japanese and not Chinese martial art but she did not say a word and concentrated instead on the clipboard that Angela was holding. Obviously, she was up to something; something that had a high percentage of chance to go on Jane's nerves. As usual.
Confirming Maura's apprehension, Angela shook her head – rolled her eyes – and played with the pen she was holding; tapping it against her lips.
"Anyway, I'm not here for linguistic classes... Green almond or white?"
This time, it turned out to be Jane who looked at her in confusion. With all the quietness in the world – that Maura identified right away as a cold anger already boiling within her – the detective put the nail varnish bottle on the coffee table and squinted her eyes at her mother.
"For what...?"
Angela shrugged – danced on her feet nervously – and sighed, visibly frustrated. Nobody was helping her in this story.
"Why, for the baby shower!"
Maura made a face and bit her lower lip before hiding back behind her science publication in the hope that she would escape from the storm that was about to happen. Within a second, Jane growled before rolling her eyes in exasperation.
"Have you already forgotten what I said? No. Baby. Shower."
An expression of utter distress spread on Angela's face. Immediately, she turned towards Maura to find there some support. The scientist hated conflicts. She wasn't good at dealing with them. It wasn't in her genes and even less in her education. The more she could avoid them, the better. She forced a smile and shrugged at Jane's mother.
"You know... Baby showers are quite rare in European countries. Most of the time, people wait for the baby to be born in order to offer gifts. I guess... I guess we can do that. It is all fine to me."
Grinning triumphantly, Jane nodded and straightened up on the couch; moving a cushion she had put in her back.
"Anything that will make me avoid some sort of prenatal Tupperware party. I mean, come on. I hate all these things; all pink and blue and blah. But yeah. What Maura said. Let's wait for September."
Angela's lips began to tremble – out of frustration and disappointment. Feeling deeply sorry for her, the honey blonde looked at her partner and asked her in silence to do something but Jane knew better than to give in her mother's implicit whims. She would stand firmly on her positions; as usual.
"So no baby shower, no wedding..."
Jane stopped her immediately. Hand in the air, the brunette shook her head before waving at her finger where Maura's grandmother's ring was glimmering.
"There is a wedding. We're getting married. We just don't want anything big."
Maura smiled softly. Not daring to add a single thing, she simply looked down at her own hand where the ring Jane had offered her a week earlier was standing proudly. The diamonds were shining.
"And what a wedding it's gonna be! You will just go to the city hall and then we will have a picnic in Boston Common. No ceremony, no big party. I hope you will, at least, wear a dress."
Like for every single important decision they had taken about their couple, Jane and Maura had decided to go for something quiet. They had settled on a date – in August – when their friends and family could be there but there wouldn't be any special preparation; no tradition whatsoever. They wanted something simple, no stress inducing and friendly enough.
"Considering I can barely fit in any type of yoga pants anymore, I'm sure I'll wear a dress but certainly not a wedding one. This will never happen. Never ever. To fulfill your perfect wedding fantasy, try to get Tommy to marry Lydia. I'm sure she'll love the idea."
Angela scoffed and – disarmed – shook her head at her daughter. Jane had always been stubborn; way too stubborn. At times, she wondered how Maura could deal with it so perfectly.
"You didn't even announce it properly. No invitations sent, nothing."
The brunette bit the inside of her mouth to restrain a scream of frustration. Although her mother wasn't completely wrong on this. They had told her about it very matter-of-fact as they had grabbed a coffee at the One Division Cafe one morning then hurried back to work as if nothing had happened, nothing that deserved any importance whatsoever. Same for Korsak, Frost; their family. They hadn't made a big fuss of it.
"And what are you eating?"
Jane followed her mother's gaze that had stopped on a plate discarded on the coffee table. Nervous, she moved on the couch and fixed Maura's feet on her stomach. Anything to avoid Angela's eyes.
"A chocolate crepe..."
In a very loud silence, Angela shook her head and crossed her arms against her chest. She disapproved and was surprised to see that Maura didn't say anything herself considering the healthy diet the blonde used to follow on a daily basis.
"You've been gorging yourself on chocolate for months, now. And you don't even go running anymore. At this pace, you won't fit in any dress either next month!"
As much as she hadn't felt like taking part in this typical Rizzoli argument, Maura cleared her voice and stared at the empty plate near Jane.
"Dark chocolate contains a chemical that our bodies convert into phenylethylamine that is actually the same chemical secreted by your brain when we fall in love. That's why chocolate is comforting."
Unsure of how she was supposed to interpret such a fact, Jane shook her head at nobody but herself and looked up at her mother.
"Running gives me contractions. I don't feel fine when I run, and even less afterward. I'll go back to it as soon as I give birth, that you can be sure of. In the meantime..."
Angela growled – shook her head – and bit her lower lip.
"In the meantime, block your arteries. I don't know how you cope with my daughter, Maura. But you surely have to be considered as a martyr."
On these words, the woman turned on her heels and left; clipboard in hand. For long seconds, Jane did not move and stared at the door by which her mother had disappeared; wondering why she always had to go on her nerves so easily. Would her own child think alike about her within a few years?
Maura moved her feet, caressing discreetly her stomach and bringing her back to reality. Smiling at her, Jane grabbed her partner's ankle and lifted it in the air so the honey blonde could check the nail varnish.
"Do you like it?"
Her question got welcomed by a grin, soon followed by a soft kiss as Maura passed her legs around her waist to capture her lips.